


Devil's Food Cake

by Biromantic_Nerd



Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (uses he/him pronouns), AU maybe?, Additional Character Cameos, Dad-devil, Fluffy and lighthearted, Food & Baking, Friendship, Gen, Gender Themes, I have no clue what universe this is in, Identity Reveal, No Romance, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Foggy Nelson, Nonbinary Peter, One Shot, Oneshot, Precious Peter Parker, Talking About Gender, transphobia by a character that appears once and then goes away, various character cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8568589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biromantic_Nerd/pseuds/Biromantic_Nerd
Summary: One chance encounter that leads to another that, along the way, leads to Foggy choking on his coffee. Matt sighed. "Yes, Foggy." He replied in an exasperated tone. "This is my teenage child that I've never mentioned having before today." Foggy shrugged. "Well," He stared at Peter thoughtfully, "You never know with you nowadays."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Helpful tidbits: 
> 
> **• I tend to write Peter as being a bit older, but he's 15 in this one!**
> 
> **• This Spiderman universe is a strange mash up of "pick-and-choose" from movies and cartoons, not Civil War or TASM inspired.**
> 
>  **• This Daredevil universe is inspired by a combination of the first season of the Netflix tv show and the Ben Affleck movie.**  
>     
>  **• Slight warnings for: brief transphobia in one scene, ongoing food/dessert mentions, and mentions of Norman Osborn's parenting**
> 
> This is a giftfic for the very talented belligerent! May they have a very happy holiday season!
> 
> (Or at least may they have a cheesy story about Dad-devil and Precious Peter Parker.)

It started, Peter supposed, when they discovered that there was an actual channel on television that taught people how to cook.

 

The origin story was that of Peter, mouth gaping, hands excitedly gesturing in the air. It was Aunt May's face of dismay as she thought about using the new fitbit she won at a bingo night versus trying to keep Peter happy as they rambled on about making _dulche le leche_ and _macarons_.

 

And it was - decidedly - the chance encounter with a stranger.

 

Or, perhaps. Maybe the _second_ encounter.

 

Somehow along the lines - however the origin story - Peter Parker found themselves laughing happily as a puff of flour ballooned in the air. And the friends around blinked and coughed and laughed too.

 

______________________________

 

The sound of the person in front of him's headphones faintly registered as Matt tried to tune it out but couldn't quite ignore it.

 

The person - a teenager: heartbeat a tad anxious and fingers tapping against their leg in an offbeat pattern - shuffled forward as the line moved.

 

Matt stepped forward as well. The lingering scent of musky sweet deodorant lingered and Matt registered idly that the person in front of him was a teenage boy.

 

"Is that skirt velvet? I love it! And you look so cute!" The barista said quickly, sounding both genuine and excited before asking, "Anyways, what can I get you?" 

 

The teenager in front of Matt laughed in surprised delight. "Oh, thank you!"

 

Matt cocked his head as he registered the exchange and compared it to his earlier observations.

 

He had, he realized, been too quick to assume that someone was cis. Which made him wince internally. He had thought that ever since that night so many years ago when Foggy - heart pounding but voice forcibly casual - told him that he wasn't cis, that he wouldn't be so quick to assume other people were either.

 

Obviously, Matt still needed to work on that more than he had thought. 

 

The teenager in front of him put away their change as the barista printed them their receipt. "It has pockets too!" They added shyly, in response to the barista's praise. 

 

Then they stepped aside to wait for their drink, and Matt moved up forwards as next in the line. 

 

____________________________

 

A crash sounded as a teenager - heartbeat fast, sweat levels high, the tinny sound of discarded earphones draped around their neck but still playing music - toppled into the store's travel mug display on their way out. 

 

Heads swiveled towards the ruckus immediately.

 

"Oh. Oh heck. Heckaroo. Heck, heck, heck." The teenager muttered in soft alarm as they set down their drink and began picking up the fallen display.

 

It was the teenager with the new skirt, Matt realized; their voice was familiar and their velvet material swished softly as they knelt on the ground.

 

Matt resolutely stared straight ahead. It wasn't his problem, after all. 

 

And no, his urge to help wasn't because he felt guilty about _potentially_ accidentally misgendering a random teenager in his thoughts. 

 

"You should watch where you're going, you freak." Someone from the back of the line sneered. 

 

The teenage froze for a moment. Then they resumed picking up the cups, their head ducked down and shoulders hunched a bit defensively. 

 

Matt breathed in through his nose. 

 

The barista placed his drink on the counter. "Er," They said awkwardly, apparently unsure how to alert Matt and also a tad preoccupied with the ongoing commotion. "Your drink. 

 

"Thanks." Matt grabbed the drink with one drink and turned to leave. The line shuffled forward as he did so, and Matt didn't hesitate. 

 

He swung his cane in an arch that was too deep for the crowded space. There was a deep yelp as Matt struck with deliberate but seemingly accidental aim. 

 

"Sorry," He said amiably, tapping his cane of the tiled floor to give the bounce a more noticeable effect. "Didn't see you there. Although, you really should watch where you're going." 

 

The teenager's head shot up as Matt finished parroting the bigot's own earlier words back to them.

 

The person made a protesting noise as they also recognized it. "That was on purpose!" They accused. 

 

Matt ignored them and simply continued walking. 

 

"Wait!" The teenager said, scrambling to their feet as Matt exited the door. 

 

Matt didn't slow down his brisk pace. _He didn't._ Honestly. 

 

The teenager quickly fell in step with him, having easily caught up. They brought with them the scent of caramel coffee and the sound of tinny music still playing from their forgotten earbuds. 

 

"I wanted to thank you." The teenager said shyly. "That was really cool of you - back there."

 

Matt shrugged. "I didn't do anything." 

 

The teenager laughed. "Okay. Sure you didn't." The teenager was quiet for a few steps.

 

"My name is Peter." They spoke up suddenly. "Peter Parker. I'm a student. Well, and photographer." The teenager hesitated but then continued in a quick exhaled flurry of words. "They/them pronouns." 

 

Matt inclined his head. "Matthew Murdock." He said calmly and causally. "Attorney. He/him pronouns. Nice to meet you, Peter."

 

Peter grinned.

 

Their forgotten earphones carried on without them, playing a song Matt was unfamiliar with.

 

_"God, I wish I never spoke. Now I've gotta wash my mouth out with soap."_

 

"So," They said curiously after half a beat, "A lawyer."

 

Matt's lips quirked in amusement. "Was there a question in there somewhere?" He dryly asked. 

 

Peter shrugged. "I guess it just makes sense. A lawyer - justice. You - standing up for me back there."

 

Matt shook his head. "That was an accident." He halfheartedly denied. 

 

Peter let out a laugh. "Sure it was." 

 

"If it was on _purpose,_ " Matt mused, "Then I wouldn't have left them standing."

 

Peter laughed again. "Ah man. It really wasn't anything that I'm not used to, but thank you."

 

"Something tells me that you can never get quite used to it." Matt muttered. "And," he enunciated more clearly. "Nor should you."

 

Peter hummed noncommitingly. 

 

"So," They said after a moment. "Are you from around here? I'm not. I'm only here on a photography assignment. Had to take pictures of a museum debut earlier. But do you live here? Have you ever seen Daredevil?"

 

Matt almost choked on his coffee. 

 

"No," He said casually. "I can't say that I have seen him." 

 

"Me neither." Peter agreed in disappointment. "Well - once, but it was at night and kind of hard to see. And I was kind of hoping - Oh my gosh." Realization hit their voice. "Oh my gosh, I promise that I was _not_ trying to be an asshole, geez, oh man -"

 

"Peter." Matt interrupted. "It's fine."

 

Despite his assurance, Peter still let out a groan of mortification.

 

"Aw geez, I really am sorry." They promised. "I know a lot of people like - think it's funny to make quips about disabilities and it's like 'oh ha ha, I've never heard THAT one before,' but inside you're like 'seriously, Lorraine, why do you have to do this every single that time we see each other?' And I totally _did not mean_ to be a Lorraine to you and - "

 

"Breathe." Matt reminded them. "Take a deep breath."

 

Peter inhaled.

 

"Lorraine?" Matt asked tonelessly but his lips twitched up in amusement.

 

"Oh God." Peter whispered. "I said that. I totally said that." 

 

"It's fine."

 

Peter groaned. "It's - like." They waved a hand in the air vaguely. "You know. A thing. A thing. Maybe? Like - a joke? I don't actually know anyone named Lorraine."

 

Matt made a short hum of understanding, even though he felt that he didn't quite fully grasp the concept.

 

"So." Peter said, fingers jittering against the side of their coffee cup and the side seam of their skirt.

 

"I guess - I guess - it was nice to meet you, Matt." Peter said awkwardly. "I'm sure you probably are going somewhere. I'm probably going somewhere too? Anyways."

 

Matt smiled. "Nice to meet you, Peter." He said.

 

Peter blinked.

 

Then they grinned. "Yeah. See you around sometime, hopefully." They added shyly.

 

Then they quickly made a left as Matt made a right, and that was that.

 

_____________________________

 

Hell's Kitchen was a large city.

 

More than that, it was a _loud_ city.

 

So, really, it came as a surprise to Matt as he heard an oddly familiar voice, whose croon was being distorted by the tinny speakers of headphones, and focused in on it.

 

Matt's lips pursed in slight confusion as he listened to lilting, "God I wish I never spoke, now I've gotta wash my mouth out with soap."

 

"Peter!" A voice called out amiably, and immediately the headphones lowered in volume.

 

 _Ah,_ Matt realized, _That_ was why it was so familiar. He had just heard it a couple days ago when he had encountered the - presumably - same teenager.

 

Matt didn't follow the teenager to ensure their safety. He just happened to be patrolling on rooftops that councided with the same path that Peter used, as they laughed in delight upon meeting up with their acquaintance, possibly friend, and carried on in the night to their destination.

 

(Which, happened to be a taxi distinctly heading out of the city.)

 

Not that Matt kept an ear out for that either.

 

Really.

 

 _It was,_ Matt mused to himself in justification from his perch on a darkened rooftop, _an otherwise slow night after all._

 

______________________________

 

"Pete. Come on, Pete." Someone tried to coax about four yards behind where Matt was walking away from.

 

"No. Nuh-uh." Peter said. And, _really,_ for someone who didn't live in the city, they sure seemed to run into Matt often enough.

 

"Peter," The other person continued cajolingly _and entirely suspiciously, in Matt's opinion_. "Let me buy you lunch."

 

Matt tilted his head slightly, considering the situation and his options.

 

Matt sighed and then decidedly turned around.

 

"Excuse me," He murmured to passerbys as he abruptly disturbed their paths. "Excuse me, pardon. Excuse."

 

"Excuse me," Matt said before the two teenagers, as if he wasn't avidly listening for signs of distress.

 

"Matt!" Peter exclaimed happily, and Matt paused.

 

"Peter?" Matt asked, smiling in a casual, offhandedly friendly way.

 

Peter's companion shuffled audibly, huffily exhaling.

 

"Oh!" Peter said with a rueful laugh. "Harry, this is Matt. Matt, this is Harry."

 

Matt nodded and extended a hand. "How are you?"

 

"Busy." Harry replied bluntly, and Matt's hand hung in the air unanswered.

 

Peter laughed stiltingly, nervous and high. "Harry." They scolded lightly. "This is _Matt._ Matt 'tripped the transphobe' from the coffeeshop Matt."

 

Oddly, Harry's shoulders seemed to relax.

 

Harry's phone rang, and he paused for a moment and didn't answer the syrupy sweet words that had a parent scurrying past quickly with her hands over their kid's ears.

 

_"Fuck you - fuck you - fuck you very muuuuch."_

 

Peter gaped at Harry in dismay, who had the carefully arranged face of someone who did not particularly care. Harry took a moment and then answered in a collected, polite voice, "Hello, father."

 

Peter let out a quiet, gurgling wheeze.

  

"I didn't give you permission to not attend the senator's luncheon." Matt heard the quiet, angry voice from the other end of the line. 

 

The previous tenseness returned immediately to Harry's shoulders.

 

"I'm out with _Peter_. We drove out of the city to get lunch, and I can't just leave them here." Harry argued quietly, saying Peter's name like it should hold should sway.

 

Evidently, it didn't.

 

"This is important, Harry." The voice sighed heavily. "These are influential people. Sure, Peter is a good kid. But he's not who you need to be strengthening relationships with. I allow you to go to public school on the condition that you continue to excel in the social and financial situations that I expect you to. Now come home. I'll have someone prepare a suit for you. Be here within the hour."

 

The phone clicked. Harry stared blankly ahead for half a beat before seeming to easily shrug it off.

 

"Pete," Harry smiled, a tad ruefully before carrying on in a charming voice that faltered towards the end. "I really hate to do this, but I've gotta go. You know how it is." Then Harry paused. "Some other time, okay?"

 

"Sure, Harry." Peter assured, even though they had been arguing the merits of allowing Harry to pay for their meal just minutes ago. "Definite reign check!"

 

Harry grinned. "Yeah," Harry's voice was a touch too sad to be convincing. "Definitely." Hesitating for a moment and then not, Harry abruptly clapped Matt on the shoulder. "Good to meet you."

 

"You too." Matt assured, even though the entire introduction had been a tad bizarre and Matt had originally instigated it because he has assumed that Harry was a creep trying to pressure Peter into a date. But, altogether, definitely not the worst first meeting that Matt had experienced. 

 

Harry climbed into the car parked on the curb elegantly.

 

Peter watched until their friend disappeared from view before they turned to Matt.

 

"Sorry about Harry." They apologized with shrug. "He's - a bit possessive."

 

Matt raised an eyebrow.

 

"Possessive." He said flatly.

 

Peter nodded, not picking up on Matt's tone or concern. "Yeah." They said, a fondness in their voice. "We've been friends since we were kids and - he just. Is protective. We both didn't really have a lot of friends for a long time. Just each other. He's still.... learning how to share, I think." Peter laughed. "Yeah. Sharing isn't something that he's ever needed to know how to do."

 

Matt was a bit curious but didn't pry. "As long as you two have healthy respective boundaries."

 

Peter flushed, heart beating a tad quicker.

 

"We're - we're not dating!" They said in the embarrassed voice of a teenager who felt unjustly accused of something mortifying.

 

Matt restrained from chuckling. But a small smile curled on the corners of his mouth.

 

"I didn't say you were." He said, just to be contrite.

 

Peter flushed further.

 

Matt felt slightly guilty.

 

"Come on." Matt said, letting his cane slant from its previous upright position into a more casual one. "You haven't eaten yet right? I know a place."

 

Peter made noises of protest but followed along all the same.

 

_______________________________

 

"Yeah," Peter said between mouthful of egg sandwich, ketchup dripping down their chin. "Me and Harry go way back." They wiped their mouth half heartedly, missing the ketchup completely, before taking their next bite. 

 

"And he - " Peter chewed thoughtfully, pondering how to phrase things. "He treated me the same. When I came out. Both times, actually." They added with a chuckle.

 

Then their eyes flicked up to look at Matt's expression. "Uh. Did I tell you that the last time we saw each other? Whoops."

 

Matt deliberately ate a fry with a casual air. "It's okay you know. I don't believe in judging a person by anything other than their actions. Even then," Matt mused like an absolute hypocrite and resolutey ignoring that. "Do humans truly have the right to judge?" He ate another fry. "Catholic." He said then, as by way of an explanation with an incline of his head towards himself.

 

"Huh." Peter said. "You seem surprisingly chill for a religious person." Then they flushed. "Ah that's not - uh. Hum."

 

Matt laughed.

 

Peter shrugged half guiltily. And then took another bite.

 

Matt thought of how people would react if they discovered the Devil of Hell's kitchen was called either of those things - chill or religious.

 

Matt laughed again, and Peter sat on in bewilderment.

 

______________________________

 

"This was fun, thanks." Peter said as both of them were throwing away their trash into the bins. "I don't know _why_ on Earth you'd buy me lunch since we're like - strangers but not? - but thanks."

 

"No problem." Matt shrugged. He paused before admittedly. "You remind me of a friend, somewhat."

 

"Really?" Peter asked, laughing.

 

"Definitely." Matt nodded. "Foggy talks just as much as you do."

 

Peter wheezed. "Your friend's name is Foggy?" They asked, boggled at the idea.

 

Matt laughed. "Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson." He then said, nodding. 

 

"Here." He reached into the pocket of his coat. "Have a business card."

 

_______________________________

 

Peter had, at first, been able to entice Aunt May to _just try one_ whenever they triumphantly completed a new recipe in the kitchen.

 

But Aunt May didn't have the metabolism of a spider; and, inevitably, when she tried to wear her favorite trousers and found them too snug to button, she stopped accepting Peter's creations.

 

Even, Peter discovered glumly, the homemade raspberry jam.

 

_______________________________

 

Harry was not a particular fan of sweet things. And Peter assured him that, when they tried recipes that weren't sweet - savory recipes, Harry! - then he could be the first to test them.

 

______________________________

 

And, as it turned out, there were only so many times that you could give homemade desserts to someone's girlfriend before _their_ girlfriend started to feel suspicious.

 

Peter offered to make some for Mary Jane too, but Gwen assured them that maybe perhaps a break from the gift giving altogether was better.

 

________________________________

 

Two weeks later, Peter stared at the entirely too large of an amount of creme brulee for even Peter to eat by themself.

 

"I could...freeze some of it?" Peter mused aloud in consideration, stuffing their hands in their pockets.

 

Their fingers brushed against a small, thick piece of paper. Curious, they pulled it out.

 

"Murdock & Nelson" Peter read. And then continued to stare at it as a terribly wild, presumptious idea started to form.

 

"I wonder if they like creme brulee." Peter muttered.

 

______________________________

 

"I'm a Florida avocado, and you're a California avocado." Foggy declared as he strode into the office. 

 

Matt's lips quirked. 

 

"Good morning to you too." He said wryly. 

 

"Avocados, Matt." Foggy said as he set down his worn briefcase. "Did you know that the avocados in Florida and California are different?" Foggy didn't wait for a reply. "Well they are! Florida avocados are full of fatty goodness and California avocados are mostly composed of boring water." 

 

Matt nodded slowly. "So I'm the boring California avocado?" 

 

Foggy snapped his fingers. "Exactly! Except! And this is the funny part - all the really hot girls seem to love you more!" Foggy nodded. "It's perfect. You basically only drink water and coffee anyways too!"

 

"Wait." Foggy squinted. "Have you drinken any water today? At all?"

 

Matt smiled pleasantly but didn't say a word. 

 

Foggy groaned. "I take it back! You're not - you don't get to be a California avocado! Not if you don't drink any damn water!" 

 

He was nearly yelling in exasperation. "You're like - like a dry, shriveled prune! Yeah! A prune, that's what you are, Matt Murdock! A PRUNE!"

 

Someone cleared their throat from the entranceway. 

 

"Is - is this a bad time?" Peter asked, eyeing the two of them oddly, hand still clutching on to the door awkwardly. 

 

"Peter." Matt greeted, smiling turning genuine at the surprise visitor. "Come in." 

 

Foggy eyed Matt speculatively. "You know a child. How do you know a child?"

 

The teenager crept in hesitantly. "Are you sure? I can - can come back?" 

 

"Did you need something, Peter?" Matt asked pleasantly. 

 

"A child!" Foggy hissed again. "Matt. _Matt!_ Tell me this isn't secretly your kid or something!" 

 

Matt sighed. "Yes, Foggy." He replied in an exasperated tone. "This is my teenage child that I've never mentioned having before today." 

 

Foggy shrugged. "Well," He stared at Peter thoughtfully, "You never know with you nowadays."

 

When Matt didn't further deny anything, Foggy groaned quietly.

 

Foggy stared scrutinizingly between Matt ans Peter for a moment. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's not your kid right?" 

 

Matt's smile tightened at the corners. "I can't say _he_ is." 

 

Peter made a vague noise, either in agreement at the truth or in protest of the pronoun. 

 

Foggy grabbed his coffee mug and lifted it. "You're killing me, Murdock." He muttered before he took a sip. 

 

Matt nonchalantly shrugged. "I mean - it's not like I asked _them_ for a paternity test. So, theoritically, _they_ could be my kid, I suppose." 

 

Foggy coughed, sputtering out coffee. 

 

"So, _kiddo,_ " Matt turned back to Peter, who had been following the conversation with wide eyes but unsure of what to say. 

 

"You're an asshole, Matt." Foggy wheezed as he undid his coffee stained tie.

Matt chuckled. "Don't mind Foggy."

 

Peter's mouth opened to a surprised 'o' shape as they unabashedly stared at Foggy. "Oh! This is Foggy!" They exclaimed in excited realization. 

 

Foggy turned to Matt, his eyebrows raising. "Matthew Murdock, I hope you're not going around spreading rumors about me. That'd be the cherry on the cake, you know that? Telling your secret kid slander about me."

 

Matt grinned but didn't deny it.

 

Peter only smiled. 

 

"Unbelievable." Foggy muttered, rolling his eyes, but his lips were twitched up in amusement and he couldn't keep the fondness out of his voice.

 

"So." Matt prompted again. "Is there a reason that you made the trip down to Hell's Kitchen or have you just come to visit?" 

 

Peter flushed slightly. "Um, hmm, ah, you see..." They trailed off, scratching the back of their neck. "I was wondering - you can totally say no or tell me to get lost!" They interrupted themself in their haste to assure Matt. " - but I was wondering. If you had any allergies or food things that I should avoid. When I bake you something for the holidays. IF you would even want me to bake you something for the holidays." 

 

There was a pause. 

 

"You want to bake me something." Matt said, voice astoundingly neutral. 

 

"Yes." Peter answered, even though it hadn't really been a question. 

 

"Matt." Foggy hissed lowly, not knowing Peter could hear him, and gently elbowing his friend in the ribs. "Say something. Don't just leave them hanging!" 

 

Matt tilted his head slowly in contemplation. "What were you thinking about baking?" He asked calmly. 

 

"Oh my god, you ungrateful bastard." Foggy whispered behind him in horror. 

 

Peter beamed. "I dunno. I just - have felt like baking. And my aunt's on a diet, so she won't eat any. And my friends are all like 'No thanks!' So I thought - I thought maybe. Maybe you would want some. Since I'm baking anyways." Peter's eyes crinkled. "Autumn is the season for baking, after all."

 

Matt smiled. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Peter."

"Oh! No problem!" Peter assured him. "Seriously! And - " They smiled widely, wringing their hands together as the spoke. "I'll make some for you too, Foggy! You don't have any allergies either? I mean - it's fine if you do! I just - I gotta know, so I can avoid them and stuff." 

 

Foggy laughed. "Holy crapadoodles, Matt, where did you find this kid. They're adorable." 

 

Peter flushed. 

 

Matt hummed vaguely. "Around." 

 

"Uh, no - no allergies!" Foggy confirmed, grinning. 

 

Matt cocked his head. "What about hazelnuts? Doesn't that make you break out in hives?"

 

Foggy groaned. "Oh for the love of God - you're right. Of course you are."

 

Peter grinned. "Awesome! Um what about - do you know - " They took a breath. 

 

"Karen?" Peter asked, gesturing towards her empty desk. 

 

Both men considered it. 

 

"Huh. I don't think so. Matt?" Foggy prompted. 

 

Matt shrugged. "None immediately come to mind. But I do think she dislikes cloves." 

 

"No hazelnuts." Peter nodded viviaciously. "And no cloves. You got it!" 

 

Foggy chuckled. "Oh my God. Matt. Seriously. Tell me we're keeping them."

 

Matt pushed his glasses further up his nose. "I'm afraid kidnapping is still illegal, the last I checked." 

 

"Boo!" Foggy jeered playfully. 

 

"Sorry?" Peter offered questioningly.

 

Foggy waved a hand dismissively. "I'm teasing." He assured them. "We wouldn't want to deprive your actual parents the pleasure." 

 

Both Matt and Peter grimaced. 

 

"Oh, yeesh." Foggy said as he took in their expressions. "Foot meet Foggy's mouth. Sorry. I'm just gonna - do you want me to make you a coffee or something?" He gestured towards their coffee maker awkwardly. 

 

"Yes!" Peter answered happily. 

 

At the same exact time, Matt disapprovingly said, "They're _fifteen._ " 

 

Foggy deliberated. "So. It's a 'no' on the coffee then?" He said finally. "Aw, Matt, c'mon, that's not fair. The kid is pouting. I can't - how do you expect me to say no to that?" 

 

"Foggy."

 

"Matt." Foggy mimicked his tone by pitching his voice deeper. 

 

"Uhh." Peter interjected, lifting a finger. "I can just - go? I probably should be going?" 

 

Foggy stared at Matt. "Matt. Do you hear that? We need the coffee to bribe the kid to stay." 

 

Peter squawked in alarm. "That's not - "

 

"Decaf." Matt relented in defeat. 

 

"Yeah!" Foggy exclaimed joyously. "I just punched the air, Matt. Hear that, kid?" He asked, turning thowards Peter. "You're getting a big ol' cup of joe."

 

Foggy began moving towards the coffee maker. He filled it with water and then grabbed a bag of coffee. 

 

"Decaf, right?" Matt asked suddenly as Foggy began scooping. 

 

"Oh sure. Totally." Foggy assured him sarcastically. He threw a wink to Peter as he finished scooping the completely caffeinated coffee. 

 

Peter turned towards Matt helplessly but didn't know what to say. 

 

Matt sighed. 

 

"So that's Foggy." Peter said simply as they watched said man deliberate between two printed mugs. 

 

"Yeah." Matt smiled softly despite himself. "That's Foggy." 

 

_______________________________

 

Karen paused as she stepped trough the door and saw a third person. 

 

"A client?" She asked curiously, even though Foggy was in the midst of gesticulating along to whatever wild story he had been telling, and Matt was leaning casually against the far wall with a wide, uncommon smile. 

 

"Karen!" Foggy bellowed happily, and he waved one of his already upraised arms. Then he threw his arm around their guest in a sideways hug. "Come say hello to Matt's kid!"

 

Karen wheezed. 

 

"His _what?_ " She coughed out, eyes darting from the laughing teenager sitting down to her coworker slouching against the wall. 

 

"Fog-gy!" The teenager protested, shoving lightly at Foggy's emcompassing arm. 

 

Foggy laughed and lifted his arm. "Alright, alright! No surprise hugs from your Uncle Foggy!" 

 

"I think they were more protesting the blatantly telling Karen that they're my kid when they're not." Matt clarified calmly. 

 

Foggy shrugged. 

 

Karen set down her pocketbook. "Wait. So." She pursed her lips. "That - isn't your kid then?"

 

Foggy chuckled. "No, Karen, I was kidding." 

 

"Foggy just wanted someone else to have fallen for it besides just himself." Matt accused. 

 

Foggy shrugged. "And I would have gotten away with it if not for you meddling kids!" He quoted playfully. 

 

"Okay," Karen sat down on a chair besides their guest. "So, hello! I'm Karen!"

 

They nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Karen!" They said in a polite, albeit rehearsed sounding, voice. "I'm Peter."

They paused a moment. 

 

"Do you have any allergies?" They asked suddenly. 

 

Karen blinked. "Do I have any - ? "

 

"Karen," Matt interrupted. "Peter wants to bake something for us."

 

"Oh. Oh!" Karen realized, looking between Matt and Peter. "Allergies!" She cleared her throat. "Nothing comes to mind." She smiled. "But wow that sounds so nice of you!"

 

Peter grinned bashfully. "It's - not a problem?" They assured her. 

 

Karen laughed delightedly. "No way is this Matt's son." She decided firmly. "He's way too cute." 

 

"Firstly," Matt said with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Rude. I've been told I'm quite cute. Secondly, Peter is - "

 

" - nonbinary." Peter interrupted. 

 

Matt paused.

 

Peter waved their hands in Matt's direction in a frazzled haste. "Ah! Sorry! I didn't - it's just - I'm - "

 

"Breathe." Matt gently reminded them. 

 

Peter took a breath. Then shrugged. "I think that's - my label. That I - " Their eyebrows furrowed in frustration. They shrugged and slumped to sit further down in their seat. "Wanted to try it." 

 

There was a beat of silence. Peter anxiously yanked at the sleeves of their sweater as the quiet lingered.

 

"Did Matt ever tell you about when we met in college?" Foggy piped up suddenly.

 

Peter shot him a confused, but relieved, look. "Uh..."

 

Foggy waved a hand in the air. "Anywho - long story short, kid - you use whatever label makes you happy. And if you change that label thirty times a week, that's okay. Whatever makes you feel comfortable being you is the right label." 

 

Peter glanced between Foggy and Matt curiously. "Are - does that mean - are you - "

 

Foggy grinned. "A total hunk of non gender conforming beef? Absolutely." 

 

Peter's mouth fell open a bit. "Oh!" They exlaimed. "And - what label do you - pronouns , I mean - " 

 

Foggy chuckled. "I'm he/him pronouns. Mostly because I don't care enough to change my pronouns. But also because some days I do feel like a demiboy and some days I feel more genderneutral, and - for me - he works just fine." 

 

"Plus," Foggy added with a conspiratorial wink. "I'm not exactly out to my family, so having everyone I know address me as 'he' is probably for the best." 

 

Peter nodded. 

 

"I won't tell anyone." Karen piped up suddenly, staring at her hands. "I know that you were telling Peter all this. But thanks for trusting me too, by default of me being in the room too." 

 

Foggy smiled. "Thanks. I mean," He scratched his head idly. "I was gonna tell you eventually. I just thought now would be a good time so that Peter knew it was a safe space here." 

 

Peter slowly nodded.

 

"Well," Matt quipped unexpectedly, a soft smugness in his voice. "I don't know how safe it is for Peter after drinking coffee that _Foggy_ made." 

 

And just like that, the casual and friendly ease of before was restored.

"I'm wounded!" Foggy cried out dramatically, clutching his heart, as Peter and Karen laughed. "Betrayed! By my best friend! How could you?" 

 

Matt simply shrugged loftily, and then Foggy laughed as well.

 

______________________________

 

"I have a confession." Peter admitted, hand on the door handle and about to leave.

 

Matt quirked an eyebrow.

 

"Uh, what is it?" Karen asked, bewildered.

 

Peter flushed. "I might - _might_ \- have made a ton of creme brulee this morning and was wondering if you guys wanted me to bring you guys some tomorrow."

 

"This morning?" Foggy asked in surprise. "I mean, sure, yeah that'd b great and all - but that does not sound like a breakfast for champions, exactly."

 

Peter shrugged. "I? Didn't actually eat any yet. Also. I have truffles."

 

"Oh my God." Karen whispered, sounding close to laughter.

 

"Matt," Foggy said. "I've got the feeling that we've mighta been tricked when we agreed earlier, and yet I - for one - don't particulary mind."

 

Matt shook his head.

 

"You don't have to come back again today, Peter. You can come back tomorrow. I'm sure they'll keep."

 

Peter nodded. "Oh. Good idea. Okay. See you all tomorrow then?"

 

"We'll be here!" Foggy assured them.

 

Peter left throught the door, closing it softly behind them.

 

Immediately Karen and Foggy swiveled to face Matt.

 

"Matt." Karen prompted.

 

"What?" He asked innocently.

 

"Oh my God, don't you 'what' us. We have a kid giving us free catering somehow. What do we do."

 

Matt shrugged.

 

"You see this?" Foggy asked Karen, gesturing to Matt's unhelpfulness.

 

"I don't see the problem." Matt said finally. "Th kid's happy, we're happy. Probably." Matt tilted his head. "Depends on if they're as good as thwy think they are."

 

Foggy dragged a hand slowly down his face.

 

"Okay." He said. "Okay."

 

______________________________

 

The next day there was a glass jar. In Foggy's handwriting it said "Peter's Baking Fund"

 

Foggy deliberately guided Matt to it four times times until Matt ended up dropping in eight dollars.

 

(After Peter came by and bashfully presented them with the creme brulee, three different kind of truffles, and snickerdoodles that were utterly sublime, Matt calmly added in a twenty to the jar after Peter left.)

 

________________________________

 

Somehow, Peter became a routine fixture in their lives. They didn't come by daily, but they came by often enough that the entire office of Murdock & Nelson fondly greeted them when they did - and quietly missed their lengthy rambling sentences when they didn't.

 

_____________________________

 

They gave Peter the jar when it was full of money, and Peter's voice shook as they thanked them profusely.

 

And if Karen offered them tissues, and Foggy offered them a cup of cocoa, only Matt knew that it caused Peter to cry just a bit more, completely talen aback by the day's comtinued kindness.

 

"You know," Matt said conversationally. "Foggy hid the miniature marshmallow in the lower cupboard so you wouldn't find them, but I think he forgot to offer them."

 

Peter offered a watery smile.

 

They came back with two cups of marshmallowy cocoa.

 

Matt prefferred tea. _But,_ He thought, _Maybe this brand was new because it tasted unusually good._

 

_______________________________

 

It was odd to hear the swish swish sound from a few blocks over. It was unfamiliar and took Daredevil a moment to place the distinctive sound sheerly just because it wasn't a common occurrence. 

 

Spiderman was in Hell's Kitchen. 

 

An occurence that, frankly, had only happened less than a handful of times.

 

He debated intercepting the other vigilante's path to demand answers, but it seemed that - for whatever reason - Spiderman was heading out of the city before even having done anything in the first place. 

 

However, it didn't stop Daredevil from casually shadowing him from a distance in order to ensure that he was really was leaving. 

 

Daredevil landed on a rooftop previously occupied by Spiderman just thirty seconds ago. About to continue on to the the next rooftoop - 

 

He paused. 

 

Matt tilted his head. 

 

Spiderman smelled faintly of something. The residue left in the air was a familiar combination. Flour. Brown sugar. Nutmeg. Anise. Butter. _Pears._

 

Daredevil spun around abruptly. 

 

No. 

 

 _No._

 

(Yes.) 

 

Matt was going to kill that stupid kid. 

 

______________________________

 

The next time that Daredevil heard the familiar sound of web shooters within the city, he sprung into action.

 

"Daredevil!" Spiderman exclaimed in surprise, the eyes of their mask widening minutely as the other vigilante landed on the roof next to them. 

 

"Spiderman." Daredevil said and simply incluned his head in invitation.

 

Spiderman nodded and quickly swung an arc and landed nimbly beside him.

 

"What's up, King Dee Dee? You know - like - from the video game - ? Oh man, I told myself I'd be totally cool when I see you next and I am failing miserably, yikes. Okay, moving on, anyways. What's up?"

 

They did, at least, attempt to disguise their voice. But it was a wonder - a miracle - that Matt hadn't connected his (admittedly few) past Spiderman encounters' voice samples with their secret identity's because _really,_ Peter, that voice wasn't exactly a drastic disguise. 

 

Matt sighed. 

 

"What brings you to this side of the city?" Spiderman asked, rocking back on their heels in such a Peter move that it almost hurt. Matt's lips pulled down in the slightest grimace. 

 

A direct approach, Matt mused, would probably be best. 

 

"H - hey!" Spiderman yelped as Daredevil suddenly picked them up by the scruff of their costume's neckpiece. 

 

"What are you _doing?_ " Daredevil growled lowly. 

 

Spiderman - Peter - maneuvered easily of Matt's firm grip. 

 

"Uh?? Me?" Spiderman asked, putting some distance between them. "What are _you_ doing?" 

 

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. "Peter." 

 

Spiderman jolted. Their arms flailed in alarm. "Wh - what ? Who - no! You've got - Nobody named Peter, nosir. Just your friendly neighbor Spiderman. Not - whatever you just said. Paul? Ha. Ha. Nooo." 

 

Matt smoothly took his cowl off in one fluid motion. " _Peter._ "

 

"Oh shit." Peter muttered as they took in the familiar face. 

 

Then dropped to sit clumsily on the roof's surface. 

 

"Breathe." Matt said, in the same familiar and gentle tone that he would always say it. 

 

"Huh." Peter finally said after a minute of simply breathing in soft surprise. "So. That's - that's a thing." 

 

Peter cocked their head to the side curiously, mask still firmly in place. "How'd you find out?"

 

Matt gave a small, unimpressed smile. 

 

"The last time I saw them, Spiderman smelled very distinctively like _your brown sugar pear crumble."_

 

Peter laughed, the sound high in the night. "Oh man. Seriously? Wait -" Their mask crinkled slightly as they frowned deeply. " - but I haven't run into Daredevil in months!" 

 

Matt smiled. "Haven't you." He said coyly.

 

Spiderman squinted suspiciously at Daredevil. 

 

Daredevil laughed lowly in amusement. 

 

"Oh you just wait, Matt." Spiderman muttered. "You just wait." 

 

_______________________________

 

"Whoa baby!" Foggy exclaimed joyously the moment Peter cracked open their office. "Let me help you with the door! Holy crap, kid! I hope that cake's a wedding cake - because I wanna marry that gorgeous thing." 

 

Peter laughed. "Thanks, Foggy." 

 

"Is that chocolate? It smells like chocolate." Matt observed, which was a complete understatement as the warm aroma of chocolate completely filled the office. 

 

"We all nodded." Karen relayed as she stood from her chair. "And Foggy's right, Peter; that cake looks _so_ good!" 

 

Peter merely laughed again. 

 

"It's not your birthday, is it?" Foggy asked Peter, who shook their head. 

 

"No, I just. Wanted to make this. For you all." Peter shrugged. "I just - was _really_ in the mood to attempt the recipe for Devil's Food Cake."

 

All of Matt's breath escaped from him in a huge, silent gust of amusement. 

 

 _That little shit._ Matt thought fondly. 

 

Peter smiled innocently. 

 

"Do you want me to cut you a piece, Matt?" They asked demurely. 

 

Matt inhaled deeply for a moment. "Yes." He said slowly, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, trying to sound completely unaffected. "That'd be ... very thoughtful of you." 

 

"I've heard of angel food cakes but not devil cakes." Karen mused as Peter handed Matt a slice. 

 

"Oh man," Foggy chirped. "You have been missing out, Karen. My great-great uncle Travis used to bake _the best_ devil's cake." Foggy paused. "Er, no offense, Peter."

 

"Nah, that's okay." Peter grinned before continuing slyly, "It's certainly not the first devil of Hell's Kitchen, but it's probably currently the best." 

 

Matt coughed loudly. 

 

"Whoa, buddy!" Foggy said in surprise. "You okay? Yeah? Well, chew your food next time, you animal, geesh." 

 

Matt coughed more quietly before clearing his throat.

 

"You know, Peter," He said loftily, and the teenager froze. "I have to agree. This may very well be the best devil in Hell's Kitchen."

 

Peter immediately broke into giggles.

 

Foggy squinted suspiciously at Matt's grin but an offered piece of cake stopped him from inquiring. _Besides, it was kind of nice,_ Foggy mused as he helped himself to a second serving, _to see Matt smiling so brightly again._

 

______________________________

 

"You look tired." Peter noticed as they sat down.

 

Matt hadn't even looked up when the door opened. "Mm."

 

"Where are Karen and Foggy?" Peter asked.

 

"Getting breakfast. You can have mine if they didn't buy one for you. They were debating texting you."

 

Peter smiled guiltily. "My phone died anyways."

 

Matt hummed, fingers still mostly focused on the papers before him.

 

"Are you okay though?" Peter asked. "Tough case or something?"

 

"It's not particularly this case." Matt admitted. "It's just - he makes no mistakes. It's gonna be impossible to catch him." He muttered mostly to himself.

 

"Well," Peter chimed in encouragingly. "The devil's in the details. They'll mess up, and you'll get them."

 

Then, two seconds after they said it, Peter's head shot up.

 

"Oh!" They said, mouth gaping. "I didn't mean - !" They eyed the door of the office nervously, as if Karen or Foggy could walk in at any moment.

 

Matt burst into guffaws of laughter.

 

Peter leaned back, surprised, and blinked.

 

Matt was still laughing when Foggy walked in with Karen, four coffees and breakfast sandwiches in hand.

 

_____________________________

 

"So what are you making?" Matt asked, leaning against the arm of a chair lazily.

 

Peter hummed. "Well. I just know I want to try caramel again, since last time was such a disaster." They smiled wincingly in embarrassment. "Aunt May says I'm banned from further caramel attempts until I replace at least one of the pans I ruined."

 

"Ah." Matt nodded. "And I'm asssuming that's where I come in?"

 

Peter laughed. "Exactly!" They exclaimed. "I'm gonna make the best caramel somethings and show Aunt May I can be trusted with our sole remaining pan."

 

Matt sighed. "Your long list of torched pans isn't exactly reassuring when you're using mine."

 

Peter waved a hand. "I've got it this time, I swear."

 

Matt sighed again, shifting to sit more confortably on the sofa's arm. "So why don't you just buy a new pot instead of using my kitchen? It has to be somewhat inconvienant for you to trek all the way down here."

 

Peter scoffed.

 

"Firstly," They said, as they also focused on whisking the sugary confection, "I enjoy spending time with you. Secondly, your kitchen is huuuge! And, uh, thirdly?" Peter set down the whisk and scratched their nose. "My very limited funds go towards my repairing my costume."

 

Matt nodded slowly. "Fair enough." He acknowledged simply.

 

Peter nodded. "So, uh," Peter said qnd cleared their throat. "Caramel. I was thinking maybe after I add the milk and it cools, maybe adding it somehow to my toffee bars? Like - layer it? Toffee, caramel, toffee. Almost like a Twix." Peter said quickly in an excited rush. "What do you think?"

 

Matt paused. "Mm. Yeah, that sounds great." He said easily. "Yum."

 

Peter eyed him oddly.

 

"Uh huh." They said slowly, a suspicion creeping up on them. "Matt - do you not like my toffee bars?"

 

Matt visibly was surprised.

 

"What?" Matt asked. "I - I like them." He protested. "They're toffee and - bars. That are made of toffee. What's not to love?" He finished weakly.

 

"Oh my God." Peter realized. "You don't like my toffee bars."

 

"Peter -" Matt protested.

 

"I've made them twelve times, and you've never said anything!" Peter continued on, aghast. "You ate them every time!"

 

"Peter - "

 

"Oh my God, you were never going to tell me either!" Peter realized, a look of dispair on their face.

 

"Peter - " Matt tried again.

 

 _"Matt."_ Peter responded instantly, distraught.

 

Matt sighed.

 

Peter stared at him in continued disbelief.

 

"Peter," Matt said calmly. "Your caramel's burning."

 

That immediately sprung Peter into action.

 

"Oh heck, heck, heck, he - hey wait." Peter's chant halted after they scrambled to check in it. "Matt, you lying liar that lies."

 

Matt smiled pleasantly. "My mistake." He said, like the complete and utter liar he was.

 

Peter squinted at him. "Did you seriously say that in the hopes that I would forget what we were talking about?"

 

Matt sighed.

 

"I knew it!" Peter exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Matt. 

 

Matt sighed again. 

 

"If you didn't like them," Peter turned to continuing whisking the sugary mixture. "You should have told me. I don't want you eating stuff you don't like, Matt."

 

There was a pause of silence. 

 

"Matt?" Peter asked, blinking. They set aside their whisk and turned back around. 

 

Matt shifted uneasily, visibly distraught. "I didn't want to discourage you." Matt said finally. "I thought - maybe - I thought if I told you I didn't like something, there was a possibility that you would stop baking." Matt paused. "And you're very talented. I didn't want to discourage you. Or cause you to stop baking."

 

"Which," He continued reluctantly, when Peter didn't say anything, "would mean you'd stop visiting the office." 

 

Peter gaped. 

 

"Wh - what?" They asked, disbelief coloring their voice. "You seriously thought - okay but - and the whole time - but what about - I - huh." 

 

Peter stared at Matt for a moment. 

 

"Uh, I, uh." Peter cleared their throat. "I thought. Maybe. That - you know - you, Karen, Foggy, and me. Were, were. Friends."

 

"Oh." Matt said softly. He cleared his throat. "Uh, your caramel is about to seize up." He informed them awkwardly. 

 

Peter swiftly turned around, whisk in hand, and tried to prevent that. 

 

"Oh." Peter echoed nervously. 

 

Matt smiled. "I'm sure Karen and Foggy would agree."

 

Peter's shoulders sagged a bit in relief. "Just - Karen and Foggy?" They asked, trying to sound carefully neutral. 

 

"Well." Matt mused, tilting his head towards the ceiling. Suddenly an extremely mischevious quality entered his voice. "I'll think about it." 

 

"Matt!" Peter laughed. 

 

Matt smiled.

 

"I guess," Matt mused as he watched Peter turn the heat off the caramel and crow triumphantly. "I'm a bit slow on the uptake aren't I? I'm letting you use my kitchen on a Saturday morning to make something that could have ended in a disaster. We must be friends."

 

Peter shot him a brilliant smile from over their shoulder.

 

________________________________

 

"Aaaaand - duh duh duh - it's a gift! From all of us to you!" Foggy exclaimed joyously.

 

"Oh!" Peter said in soft surprise.

 

Karen held out the hazardously wrapped package with a warm smile.

 

"Here you go, Pete." She said, and they took it bewilderedly.

 

They stared down at the shiny metallic gold snowflakes on green matte paper. The paper was creased, one if the corners clearly had been ripped and then pat hed up with more wrapping paper and tape. And shiny red curling ribbons coiled around the packaged wildly.

 

Peter smiled softly.

 

"Thanks," They said warmly.

 

"You're welcome, kiddo, but you _can_ open it, you know." Foggy teased gently.

 

"It's not much." Matt warned. "Just something from all of us that we thought you might need."

 

Peter nodded in understanding.

 

Peter delicately tore the paper and tried to set it aside to keep.

 

Then Peter blinked.

 

"Wha - you guys!" They laughed in disbelief, face turning red.

 

Folded neatly was an apron that read "Kiss The Cook!"

 

Peter's ears were red as all four of them laughed together.

 

________________________________

 

That night, Peter changed their computer background.

 

It became a photo of Karen and Foggy pressing kisses against Peter's forehead as they all laughed.

 

In the top left of the frame, Matt's wide grin barely was partially visible behind Karen's Santa hat.

 

______________________________

 

Peter made waffles the next morning. And Aunt May laughed, surprised and fond, as she took in the sight of Peter grinning at her with flour dusting their face and their brand new apron.

 

"Well," She mused with a smile. "I suppose I will."

 

And she walked over and pressed a warm kiss to Peter's cheek.

 

Peter laughed, smile wide.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration behind Daredevil's characterization did also come from me reading belliegerent's stories again. I have a lot of emotions about them because they're so lovely 
> 
> I completely poured all my "I really want to bake but can't" feelings in to this story too
> 
> This story completely ran away from me, by the way. It was supposed to be short and sweet and somehow turned into /waves hand/ this.


End file.
